Leverage International: The Academy Job
by KaniacQueen
Summary: Eliot is hired to find a young woman by a group known as The Academy who masquerade as the board for a school for the gifted and believe Eliot is still Black Hat. He decides to find her to save her from her fate. It soon becomes obvious that this young woman has become psychologically scarred by The Academy and Eliot intends to find out what happened to her so that the team can eff
1. Bothered

Ch. 1

"Hardison, is your facial recognition software up to date?" Eliot called from the front door, not pausing as he continued toward the conference room.

"I'm offended you even had to ask." Hardison rolled his eyes. "Why?"

Eliot smacked a photo down on next to him. "This girl, get me everything there is to get."

Hardison scanned the photo without really looking at it. A blown-up copy appeared on the screen. It was a young girl, a teenager. She peered back at them with honey-colored eyes framed by dark, chocolate brown curls. Hardison's brow furrowed. "This girl? You're sure?"

Parker spoke up between munching on popcorn. "What's so special about her?"

Eliot turned, registering that Parker had, once again, appeared out of nowhere. He shrugged it off and glared at the screen. "Had some suits call me in. They want her; she has some files of theirs, so I need to find her."

Hardison swung around with a cocked eyebrow. Parker pursed her lips. "You don't do that anymore," he posed accusingly.

He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. "If I don't find her, they'll send someone else."

"So?" Parker scoffed in between crunching cereal.

"Parker, they didn't just ask me to get the files. They want the girl. I don't think they want to give her a time out. They sent me, and they want her alive. They want to hurt her, and look at her; she's just a little girl." Eliot cracked open a beer from the fridge, impatiently waiting for Hardison's software to quell its searching purr.

"Eliot, did they give you anything other than this girl's picture? No file for other information?"

Eliot chuckled. "That's the fun part. The files she stole? They included hers."

"Included? Interesting. Did you know this photo is a few years old? Okay, more than a few."

"Wait, how many more than a few?"

"Thirteen. There's a date printed on the back."

Eliot reached for the photo. "How did I not see that? Is anything else on there?" He closely examined the back. "Looks like it was scratched out. See, these people bother me. There's a lot they're not telling me."

"Isn't that normal?"

Eliot rubbed his neck in frustration. "Yeah, but this time it bothers me."

"I see that…That's interesting."

"That I'm bothered?"

"No." Hardison pointed to the screen. "That this is the closest match, and it's not her. "

They stared at the screen. "You're right, it's not her. But it looks so much like her, almost like her…"

"Sister." Several other images flashed up on the screen as Hardison fiddled with the control pad. "It's her sister. And there are her sister's, and I assume also her, parents."

Eliot crossed his arms. "Parents? They alive?"

"And well. Sister too. They're all living at this address."

"Good, good. Names?"

"Mom and dad are Sandra and David Pierce. Sister is Sasha."

"Her name?"

"Well a few years before Sasha was born, Sandra gave birth to a Savannah Morgan."

"Okay. What else you got, on her specifically?"

"That's the fun part." Hardison laughed at his own joke. "This girl went off the grid. She disappeared right around the time that picture was taken. She hasn't come up on any cameras in the last thirteen years. Are you sure she's even alive?"

"I don't know. What else?"

"Once she finished Elementary school, she left the public school system."

"Where was she for four years after that?"

"Hang on, these files aren't as public…Charles Academy for the Gifted."

"Okay, give me more on them."

Hardison looked sideways at Eliot with a cocked eyebrow. "You are demanding today."

Eliot rolled his eyes. "Please."

"All I'm getting so far is their website. It's just what it sounds like; supposed to be a school for super smart kids. Here's the Dean, the founders."

"Wait," Eliot put his hand up. "These guys were some of the suits wanting this girl."

Parker crossed her arms and tilted her head in thought. "So this about school files. What would be so special about school files?"

Hardison nodded. "Hinky."

Eliot turned and headed towards the door. "Hardison, text me that address, the parents' house, I'm going to check it out."

"Seems a little obvious, don't you think? I mean, wouldn't they have checked with the family by now?" Parker asked.

Eliot turned back and pointed an irritated finger at her. "Do I tell you how to do your job? Hm? If I can get inside the house, I might be able to figure out some other possibilities." He turned back to the door. Parker rolled her eyes. "I saw that, Parker."


	2. Savannah, Another Parker

Ch. 2

Eliot pulled through the suburban neighborhood. He got to the right street and was peering at the numbers on the mailboxes to find the right house when he saw something in front of the truck out of the corner of his eye. He felt the thump of the truck hitting something large as he hit the breaks. He jumped out and was shocked to find a young woman in a black hoodie, black cargo pants, and a bulky duffel bag over her shoulder getting up and dusting herself off. When she straightened and her hood fell off, revealing her face, he was floored.

"Savannah."

She flinched at the name. "Please, le-" she stopped talking and stepped over to the side of the truck. It took him a minute to realize she was out of view of her family's house. "Please, leave them alone. They've been through enough. They're finally getting to move with their lives. Don't ruin it."

"I wasn't going to ask about you, just look around see if I could get a clue as to where you went. I guess I don't have to that anymore. You should probably come with me."

"No."

He couldn't say he was surprised. "I'm not going to take you to them. I'm not here to hurt you."

"I know."

He raised his eyebrows. "You do?"

"I know who you are, what you do; you, Parker and Hardison. Even Nate and Sophie before the sabbatical. You've got a following."

He was both flattered and uncomfortable that word was getting out about them, but what could you do. He looked into her eyes, trying to read her. She was clearly very guarded, which was understandable; people were after her. "Then why won't you come with me if you know I'm not here to hurt you?" He tried to discreetly step closer to her.

"It'll just complicate things. I do better alone."

He smirked, remembering the time over half a decade ago, when he'd thought the same. "You understand that right now I'm the only one right now who can help you make this problem, whatever it is, disappear. If I let you go, eventually they'll send someone else after you, someone who's not here to help."

She pursed her lips derisively. "You think you're the first one they've sent after me? I've alluded them all before."

"By jumping in front of their vehicles?"

"I only did that to you because I know you mean well. No one's tried coming here nine years."

"You really should come with me. We can help."

"I can't."

"I don't want to hurt you."

She turned and went to jump a closeby fence. He caught her by the waistband and pulled her back. She hit the ground, but didn't stay down for long. She leapt up , but he grabbed her calf and pulled upwards, trying to keep her off her feet. He felt her twist around and shift her weight, and suddenly her foot connected with his neck. He went sideways and lost his grip on her. When he regained his bearings, he saw her halfway over the fence. He wrapped his arms around her and tossed her towards the truck. She landed on her feet and took a defensive pose, done with running and ready take him on. "Really?"

She gave him a challenging nod. He popped her in the solar plexus, but she merely flinched. She clocked him in the jaw. There was a lot more power to it that he expected from such a tiny frame, but he could take it. He lunged at her, deciding that if he could just pin her, she'd have to cooperate. He landed on top of her , but she rolled, throwing him feet-first into the hood of his truck. As he landed, he caught her arm and wrenched it. She cursed, but got loose. When he regained his footing, she slapped the bejesus out of him. "Fine! But I'm only going with you because I can't let anyone see me here."

He growled as he got back into his truck. After all that, she gave in? After smacking the crap out of him? He watched her get in, shoving her back in the floorboard and pulling her hood up. As he started driving, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am!" she said contemptuously.

"I hit you with a car."

"You were going like five miles an hour."

"I was going twenty."

"So?"

"Normal people don't get up like that after getting hit by a car."

"That's hilarious coming from you."

"So what the hell is up with that Academy." She didn't answer. He looked at her. She was just staring at her bag. "No cryptic or smart-ass retort?" He saw her bite the inside of her lip. "We really are here to help." Still silence. "We can only help if you tell us what's going on. Right now you are the best Intel we got."

"If you keep prodding me, I will open the door and jump out of this truck."

"I'll pull over and make a scene." He didn't want to endanger her. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd do if she really did jump...but she was pissing him off. He heard her curse him. "What was that?" he asked in an inciting tone.

"Nothing," she spat, though it was obvious they both knew what she had said.

He grumbled, "Great, another freaking Parker."


	3. Comfort Food

Ch. 3

Hardison and Parker appear at the end of the hall as Eliot comes through the door?

"Back already? You find something?" Hardison asks, impressed.

Then they both spot the girl, hood on, head down, skulking in behind him. "You brought her here?!" Parker asks incredulously.

Eliot feels Savannah start to back out. He grabs her arm and she strikes him the the throat. He lets go. She pulls her arms in towards her body. "I'm sorry; it's a reflex. I told you I don't belong here."

When Eliot can talk again, he argues, "Where was I supposed to take her? This is the safest place possible. It's not like we don't have room."

Hardison shrugged and nodded. They had an entire office building to themselves. They had slowly been converting floors and rooms to suit each one of them with plenty of floors and rooms to spare.

"You don't need to get involved!" Savannah insisted, still inching towards the door.

Eliot turns to her. "I can protect you here."

"I can protect myself."

"I am the last person they talked to about you. We are the best chance you have to end all the running."

"If she doesn't want to be here, we can't keep her here," Parker interjected.

"You're not helping, Parker." Eliot raised his voice.

Hardison stepped in. "Look, whether or not we can help, you can at least stay here for a day or two, give yourself a break. Have yourself a real meal, a safe place to sleep, and there are no accessible security cameras here so you can even get out from under that hood."

Eliot turned and opened his mouth to dispute Hardison , but Savannah spoke first, "How did you-"

"You've been off the grid for over a decade. It can't have been easy," Hardison assured her. "I'm Har-"

"Hardison, I know who you are. And Parker." She started stepping forward coming into what they had converted into their latest conference room. Eliot was shocked to see that she had straightened and pulled off her hood. Hardison walked over to the kitchen and Savannah followed. Eliot watched as he pulled out a chair and she slowly sat down. He'd noticed Parker had stalked off. After all this time, she still didn't handle Hardison talking to other women very well. But Eliot figured out what Hardison was doing and it had nothing to do with romance. He had taken a leaf from Sophie's book and found what Savannah really wanted. She had no faith that her problems would go away, but a night, one little night, of peace was something for which she was all too hopeful.

Hardison went to the fridge, grabbed an orange soda, and tentatively handed it to her. He thought he heard a smirk in her voice when she thanked Hardison, like the soda reminded her of some fond memory. That's when he noticed her hands. She had been wearing thin, skin-tight gloves with latex pads. Of course, the latex pads gave her grip while the gloves prevent her from leaving finger prints. Again, Eliot wondered what happened in that academy to scare this girl into disappearing so far into the woodwork? And who was she before? If they could help her, who would she become?

Hardison sat across from her and with a miniscule guester, told Eliot to join them. Eliot sat down to find that, in fact, Savannah had a small smile on her face. "Now, I'm sure you're not ready to talk right now, but Eliot, here, can throw down, and I'm sure if you tell him something you'll like, he'll make it, and it'll be the best you've ever tasted."

Eliot couldn't help but be just a little bit flattered. Even after all this time, the rare compliments they paid each other were very much appreciated. "Yeah," he said, agreeing to the plan. Savannah bit her lip and examined the soda bottle in her hand for a few minutes. Then she gave a laugh, like she was sharing a private joke with herself. "So much like Parker," Eliot thought. He knew by the look on his face that Hardison agreed.

Savannah finally spoke, "Macaroni and cheese." The way she said it spoke volumes. She had a chance and she took it. She was taking the opportunity to have that blissful moment of child-like happiness that comes with eating your favorite food from childhood. Even as tastes evolve, we all end up with two different favorite foods. The mature favorite is the one we have at the end of a long week at work with a favorite alcoholic beverage on the side. Then there's the childhood favorite; when the world around us seems to be crumbling, we want it in a monstrous portion with a favorite soda or chocolate milk. Savannah had been needing her macaroni and cheese for years, and she finally felt safe enough to have it. But just safe enough. Her hands shook as she said it, and she couldn't make them stop. She'd let herself get comfortable, and now she was unsure, waiting to be attacked while her guard was down.

"Sure," Eliot said, and he got up to make it.

As Eliot worked in the kitchen, he used his peripheral vision to watch her and listened to the conversation between her and Hardison. "So you don't want to talk about-"

"No."

"You know us, you know about what we do?" It was both a question and insistence that they could help.

"I do. I've learned a lot from you guys over the years."

Eliot could hear the proud grin in Hardison's voice. "Like what?"

"Parker taught me how to come and go unnoticed. You taught me how to disappear. Eliot taught me how to fight. Sophie taught me how to read people to see if I could trust them. And Nate...Nate taught me how to move on."

There was a moment of understanding silence. Hardison decided to push the subject again. "If...if we taught you all that, why won't you trust us to help you?"

Eliot heard her breathing quicken. She gave an exhausted sigh. "Mistakes happen, and a screw up could endanger her." She let out a small gasp as she realized her mistake.

Eliot didn't want Hardison to push it, so he hurried to the table with a spoonful of sauce and offered it to her. "Here, tell me what you think of this." He gave Hardison a warning look as she tasted.

"It's wonderful, thank you." She wasn't thanking him for the sauce.

"It's the mustard seed," he said, and he went back into the kitchen pondering who "she" was. It didn't take him long before his mind came up with a guess: the sister. But for now he decided to keep it to himself. He finished up, plated, and brought it to her. He paused. He kind of wanted to wait to see what she thought. He knew it was good, but he wanted her opinion.

She didn't seem to mind, so he lingered. He watched her carefully take a bite . As she pulled the empty fork away from her lips, she sighed with an air of utmost contentment.

"So you like it?" he posed.

"Perfect." It was almost a sensual moan. It clearly increased her comfort level as she unzipped her hoodie and took it off along with one of her gloves. She reached for the duffel she kept securely close to her. She grabbed the zipper with her bare hand and it beeped before she unzipped it.

Eliot and Hardison perked up at the beep. "What was that?" Eliot asked suspiciously.

"Security," Savannah said matter-of-factly stuffing her hoodie inside. She zipped the bag back up and a beep sounded again. Strangely, Eliot thought he saw her rubbing the zipper with the glove as if to clean the zipper before putting the glove back on.

Eliot and Hardison silently decided to leave it alone after realizing there was a security mechanism on the zipper of her bag that must respond to finger prints or something somehow responsible for keeping would-be Parkers out of the bag. They couldn't blame her for being secure. Eliot remembered there was more than enough macaroni for everyone, so he decided to make a plate for him and Hardison. As he plated, he called out, "Parker, you hungry?"

"Did you cook?"

"Yeah."

"Is she still here?"

"Yeah."

"Not interested."

"Parker," Hardison called, "get in here and eat, woman!"


	4. Routine

Ch. 4

Savannah ate quickly, even with the obvious effort she was making to savor it. It was a habit Eliot and Parker had as well, never broken from their military and foster days. Hardison held Parker's hand assuringly throughout the meal. Eliot found it hilarious that Parker seemed so agitated by Savannah's presence, especially since he saw that they were so similar. Well, Savannah got on his nerves a little more than Parker, but maybe that's because he was used to her.

She was right, though. He saw a little bit of all of them in her; Nate's pain in her eyes; Sophie's technique in the way she looked at people, trying to read them; Hardison's tech-savviness and awareness in her bag; and himself in the way she fought, relentlessly.

Her quirkiness increased when finished. She took the plate, fork, and empty bottle with her over to the counter, ignoring Hardison's protests that he would handle the dishes. She went into her bag, after the obligatory beeping and zipping, pulled out something they couldn't see. Eliot perked up. Was it a weapon? There was a spraying sound and the smell of hydrogen peroxide reached his nose. She was spraying the bottle, plate, and fork; it was to prevent anyone from collecting her DNA from them. That's when Eliot noticed yet another interesting quality. Save for her face and hair, the rest of her was completely covered and uneasily accessible. Even then, face and hair were often covered by the hood.

He had to wonder why she didn't cut her hair, which looked like it ran halfway down her back when it wasn't pinned securely to her head, since it could be safer that way. Then he remembered Parker's and his own hair. There were just some things you couldn't let go of, even if they would help.

He was grateful, in a way, when night fell. The tension Parker was radiating was threatening to become destructive. Finally, it was time to turn in for the night. Hardison explained, "This floor is the most secure since this is headquarters. I know security is important to you. There are plenty of unused rooms here if you want to pick one here, but of course you don't have to stay on this floor. A lot of them are already set up with places to sleep and what not."

"It's fine." She seemed more comfortable. Hardison let her poke around the rooms. "This one," she said opening a door.

"That room's empty? Like, completely empty."

"I know."

"Okay, well, we can pull a bed in here-"

"No. It's good this way."

"Okay," Hardison conceded, very confused. But Eliot understood. There was a certain sense of security in an empty room. No one could hide in it, waiting for you. No one could plant bugs or cameras because there's no cover in an empty room. It's harder for people to sneak up on you since there is nothing to cover the sound or sight of them.

"Goodnight. And thank you," she said quietly as she shut the door.

Hardison starts to go on his way when he notices Eliot start to sit down next to the door. Eliot answers the wordless question. "I feel the need to keep watch. It was a pain in the ass getting her here in the first place. I want a chance if she makes a run for it." Hardison shrugged and went on his way.

Eliot listened. He heard the beeping, zipping, and shuffling of her going through her bag. He wondered what she was keeping so secure in the bag. The idea flashed across his mind: the files. He brushed it aside and listened to her settle. Time passed. After about an hour he heard her stir and start gasping, breathing heavily. She had night terrors, possibly PTSD. What in the world happened in that academy, Eliot wondered for the fifteenth time. Another hour or later it happened again. She didn't settle back down. She started pacing. She even shuffled through her bag, but apparently it did nothing for her as she let out a quiet groan of exasperation. The pacing started again, more intensely. She was frustrated, but clearly this sleeping pattern was routine and tonight was just a little worse than usual in such a different environment.


	5. Security Measure

Ch. 5

He let another hour pass and then started working his magic in the kitchen. When he was done, he knocked on her door. A short gasp told me he startled her.

"Identify yourself."

"It's Eliot."

"Prove it."

He rolled his eyes. He understood her skittishness, but it was still a little irritated. "You called me an asshole in the truck."

"What do you want?"

"Seriously?"

She opened the door just enough to see her face. She had put her hoodie back on, probably as some sort of security blanket. "Seriously, what do you want?" He offered her the cup. She accepted it and took a long sniff of the contents. "What is it?"

"It's an herbal brew made with milk. It probably won't put you to sleep, but it should help you relax."

She handed him back the cup. "Thank you, but no." He wanted to be insulted, but he should've realized she wouldn't accept a sedative. Sedatives slow you down; slowing down leads to capture. "Would it be okay if I had some cereal?"

"Of course, yeah." He almost wanted to laugh, wondering if she had the same affinity to cereal as Parker. He placed the brews on the counter and replaced them with a beer. He found himself sitting next to her on the couch. "You don't sleep much?" It was both a question and a statement.

"Legend says neither do you."

"You sure you wouldn't like a real bed?"

She rubbed her neck. "It's been so long since I've slept on one I have no idea. I think the real problem is the night-Nevermind."

"I know about night terrors. I got them too."

He saw a spark of hope in her eyes. "Do they go away?"

"It depends. So far they just seem to happen less often." She nodded solemnly. There didn't seem to be much faith that hers would slow. He thought it may be safe to prod if he started gently. "Where did you sleep before?"

"Parks in the rich neighborhoods where it was safe. I was never there more than four hours, so I didn't have a lot of problems with the locals calling the authorities."

"So your bag?"

"What about it?"

"What's the security on it?"

"Fingerprint reader on the pull tab, one for the thumb, one for the forefinger."

"What's to stop someone from using the powder trick?"

"Cleaning the tab, for one. It's temperature sensitive, so I have to be alive for it to work. Working on getting one that reads DNA."

"What about ripping the bag?"

"The outermost layer is a strong canvas. The second layer is Kevlar. The third is impregnated with det-cord. It's also along every seam. Any pressure or cutting and it detonates and destroys the contents." She spoke the way Hardison did when he subtly bragged about new gadgets.

Eliot thought carefully about what he said next, but went ahead. "All this trouble and you'd let them get destroyed?"

They both knew what he was talking about. "Believe me when I say it's better than the alternative."

"So why not destroy them?"

"They'll just start over. Having the files gives the potential for ransom, exposure, their entire destruction. Or at least that what I want them to think."

"What's the truth?" She was silent. When he turned to her, she just shook her head. Try again later. "So what happens if they get destroyed?"

"It'll take them a while to start over. If I don't get killed in the process, I'll have time to try and think of something." She seemed to take a minute absorb the possibility. "In the end, I'll know I've at least tried. Eventually, it won't matter." He wanted to ask, but as soon as he opened his mouth, she shook her head again.


	6. The Animal

Ch. 6

She rubbed her forehead. "I feel like hell...more than usual." She had finished her cereal. She put the bowl on the coffee table in front of them and reached for the bag that wasn't there. He felt her breathing quicken and watched her face shine with a film of sweat as she leapt over the arm of the couch and sprinted to the door of her room. He caught up to her watching her dive desperately for her precious bag. The beep had barely sounded when she tore open the zipper and frantically took inventory. Her breathing slowed. He put what he thought was a comforting hand on her shoulder, but before he recognized that she'd tensed, she gripped his arm with both hands and flipped him onto his back. She released him immediately, realizing what she'd done. "I'm so sorry. Reflex!"

"Yeah, I get it," he grunted, getting up, but before he made it to standing position, she'd grabbed her trusty bottle of hydrogen peroxide, zipped her bag with finality, and rushed out the door after the secure beep. He caught up to her as she was furiously spraying the spoon and bowl. He was careful not to touch her. "Hey, you're safe here, okay, I promise."

She stiffened and uttered the thought he'd been afraid of as soon as he heard her awaken from the first night terror. "I've got to get out of here."

She turned to make a run for her bag, but he locked her into a bear hug. She was frantically kicking at the air and trying to push him away with her compressed arms as he held her up from anything with leverage. He glanced at her eyes seeing a glassy unfocused look. She wasn't completely present. The primal creature that ran on fight-or-flight programming for the last decade was shutting down the human Savannah. "This place is designed as a safe house. Why would criminals like us stay here if it wasn't?"

She started screaming one of the many mantras she had to live by to stay clear for so long. "No place is safe! When you feel safe, you get comfortable. When you get comfortable, that's when they get you."

It was insanely more difficult to subdue someone than it was to just knock them out, but he couldn't just knock her out. If he did, they'd lose what little of her trust that they had. This wasn't a force thing. He was going to pull a Sophie. Okay, this was going to require a little bit of force. He squeezed her a little harder, not enought to break any bones, but enough to compress her ribcage and limit her oxygen intake so she'd have to calm down. Only she wasn't. She was so little. Why was this so difficult? He steadily applied more pressure, praying he wouldn't feel a crack. Wow, her bones were strong, but finally her flailing slowed. He hauled her back on to the couch and sat next to her.

He took her by the shoulders and spoke softly. "Savannah? Savannah, look at me. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and then look at me." Surprisingly, she followed orders. "Tell me something happy. Tell me about your sister, your favorite memory."

She struggled to breath steadily, but he could tell she was coming back. "On the swing set in our backyard. I think it's still there. It was before the academy. We ate almost a whole box of popsicles. We were talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up. She wanted to be a veterinarian. I wonder if she followed through."

"And you? What did you want to be?"

Her voice was weak. "I don't remember. Now you. You tell a happy memory."

He wanted to argue, but he conceded with a sigh. "My first successful souffle."

"More, tell me more." He began to recount some of his favorite culinary accomplishments. He's gone on a few minutes and glanced over to find her surprisingly and peacefully asleep. He got a hold of a blanket and laid it over her as gently as he could, painfully aware that the slightest touch could trigger fight-or-flight.

He poured himself a whiskey and laid back in the recliner next to the couch. He took a few sips as he watched her. Even asleep, he could see the distress in the slight furrow of her brow. He finished his whiskey and crossed his arms over his chest as he began to drift off. The question flitted through his mind of whether or not it was entirely safe to sleep with her unpredictable behavior, but he had to sleep sometime and it would only be ninety minutes.


	7. Cinnamon Pancakes

Ch. 7

Exactly ninety minutes later, Eliot's eyes opened and he sat up. Immediately, he looked over to where Savannah should have been sleeping and was glad to find her where he left her, still asleep. He eased himself up and headed to the kitchen. On his way, he tripped on something that made a delicate tinkling sound. He looked down to find Savannah's spoon amid the broken pieces of her cereal bowl. It must've been knocked over during her freak out. He picked up the pieces of the bowl and tossed them in the trash and the spoon in the sink to be washed after breakfast.

Today felt like pancakes...cinnamon pancakes. He got to work. About ten minutes later, Savannah stirred, and by "stirred" she leapt up in a panic and threw the blanket across the room. Unsure of whether this was another episode or just the residual flailing from night terrors, Eliot turned the stove off. "All clear?"

"Why'd you put a blanket on me?" she asked, jogging to what was now considered her room, presumably to get her precious bag.

There was a sarcastic bite to his voice. "People sleep with blankets?"

She came back out of her room hauling bag. "Assailants sneak up on people when they're sleeping with blankets and strangle their victims with them."

Eliot nodded, feeling safe enough to click the heat back on. "Everything is a weapon. Cinnamon pancakes?"

"Poison, object for choking, suffocation if you want to get creative."

Eliot almost laughed. "No, I'm making some for breakfast. You wanna come eat?"

She just stared at him for a second. The home-and-family feel of the place wasn't something she was used to...yet. "Uh...yeah. Thanks."

He set a plate in front of her as she sat down. Also on the table were two bottles: plain syrup and a homemade cinnamon syrup; and two dishes: plain butter and a homemade cinnamon compound butter. Savannah rolled her eyes at the assortment. "Apparently, there was a sale on cinnamon?"

Eliot prepared the pan for a new batch of pancakes. "Yeah, a long time ago. I told Hardison that Parker wasn't ready to go grocery shopping unsupervised. I swear, I used it constantly, and there always seems to more."

He heard her stifle a laugh. "Where are they, anyway?"

"Oh, hang on." He adjusted an air vent next to the stove.

As if physically summoned, Hardison came in with an expectant smirk. "Cinnamon pancakes?"

"That nose of yours is getting good, Hardison, almost as good as mine," Eliot said, setting another plate of pancakes on the table.

"It's a very distinctive smell," Hardison said with a tone of good-natured mocking.

Shuffling from the ceiling caused them all to look up to see a ceiling tile disappear and get replaced with Parker as she repelled down on a simple rig. "We've told you not to do that, Parker!" Eliot and Hardison said in unison. She shrugged, unharnessed herself, and gave it a yank, causing it to retract back into the ceiling.

"She's still here." She'd just registered Savannah was sitting at the table.

"Play nice, Parker," Eliot warned, handing Parker a plate of pancakes.

Parker seemed to dismiss Savannah altogether as she ate. It didn't matter, though. Savannah was almost done eating. The question "Bathroom?" followed the obligatory compulsive spraying of her dishes. Hardison and Eliot wordlessly pointed to a door, she disappeared behind it.

She took a hilariously long amount of time in the bathroom for her nomadic lifestyle. The was constant beeping, zipping, and shuffling. Eliot figured her paranoia (okay, it probably wasn't as simple as paranoia) forced her to open and close her bag every time she needed something, narrowing the risk that someone would burst in on her and the bag sitting open next to her. She was probably hosing everything her bare skin touched with peroxide. When she reappeared, she still had business to attend to, as her next inquiry was "Roof access?"

Eliot, Hardison, and Parker all looked at each other with a twinge of unease. There was a silent conversation as to how to handle the situation. Finally, there was a synchronized nod. Eliot grabbed a hoodie. "I'll take you." Her narrowed eyes said a lot: She didn't like being babysat, but she understood their position.

"Comms," Hardison reminded him. Eliot nodded and took two off Hardison's desk. He put one in his ear and handed the other one to Savannah. She put it in, they pulled up their hoods, and headed to the roof without a word.

Once they got to the roof, Eliot barely had time to ask what she needed the roof for when the got to work, keeping her head down. She pulled a hair brush out of her bag. He wrinkled his nose as he swore he thought the brush emitted a buzzing sound. He barely got the first word of the question out when she explained, "It has a controlled static cling; makes sure I don't leave behind a trail of hair." Then she pulled out a lighter and set the hair on fire, successfully burning away another trace of her presence. Even the smell was quickly carried off in the wide open space.

"You go through this every day?"

She stowed her things and zipped her "Every day I want to stay hidden; it's worth it. You have a gym or something somewhere in here right?"

"Yeah," he answered, but neither of them moved for several minutes. The repetitive question hung in the air.

There was a look in her eye that gave him hope that her answer might be changing from "I can't tell you" to "I can't tell you...yet."


	8. Dammit Parker

Ch. 8

Eliot decided to join Savannah to work out. He had an appreciation for the way she wordlessly just took out her earbud and started working out. She was hanging upside down from the chin-up bar doing crunches while he decided to bench press. He was going to keep it light. He didn't want to end up sore with this handful of a woman around. The thought popped into his head, so he just decided to ask, "How did you do this on the run?"

She'd apparently forgot he was there, and he startled her. She slipped and almost fell off the bar, but caught herself. With a note of irritation, she answered, "Underground fight clubs. Slip the organizer a fifty and you're clear for about a month. They're usually a tight community so as long as you don't step on toes, they'll keep quiet since they don't want authorities in their own business."

Another question was bothering him. "How do you get the cash to slip them?"

"I steal from rich people who don't need it." She said it so shortly, he wasn't sure if she was serious. He didn't fault her, but the answer was interesting nonetheless. The workouts continued in silence. Over an hour later, he was impressed to see that her energy seemed steady and she was barely sweating. It was even more impressive when he thought about what she wore, constantly covered in dark, fitted clothing. It clicked for him that she reminded him of Mikel. Oh, Mikel. She was fun.

Eventually, while he did push ups, she had moved on to the punching bag. He tried to watch her inconspicuously. It seemed that the punching bag wasn't about a work out; it was about release. There was emotion behind her strikes. He studied her face and recognized it. It was the same way he fought when he first left for the military after he had that fight with his dad, when Amy married another man, when Moreau...He shook himself back to the present. He got up, approached her, and gently put his hand on her shoulder. He then found her left foot slamming into his ribcage. He hit the ground, having not seen it coming. Hilariously, the first thought to occur to him was "So she leads from the left."

"Sorry. Reflex."

"It's okay. I should learn by now not to sneak up on you without saying something and not to touch you...in any way," he quipped, getting up.

Slightly exasperated, she brushed loose wisps of hair from her forehead "What did you need?"

"I wanted to ask if you wanted to trade the punching bag in for a sparring partner." She raised her eyebrows sceptically in response. "What ? Afraid you can't take me?" He was picking at her on purpose, attempting to lighten her mood. She shrugged and aimed at his jaw. He swatted her hand away. She narrowed her eyes. "I already know you lead with your left. Mix it up; it could save your life." She ran her tongue across her teeth threateningly, and the sparring continued.

She was strong for a girl her size, surprisingly strong. She wasn't injuring him, but she was taking a lot out of him. Something was wrong, then he watched closer. Savannah didn't seem to feel pain. When he struck, she merely seemed to take the impact and keep going.

This first day became a template for the following days. Except for the tension. Savannah and Eliot would get up around sunrise. Savannah would go in the bathroom while Eliot made breakfast. They would all eat, often in silence, then Eliot and Savannah would put in earbuds and head to the roof for hair burning. The earbuds would come out in time for a couple hours of working out and sparring.

The afternoons were where things got interesting. Parker, wanting very little to do with Savannah, would disappear. Hardison remaining in the in the office often times would cause tension between the couple. With Eliot wanting the Academy at the forefront of their focus, he and Hardison would fight about ignoring other clients, then Hardison would storm off to join Parker in passive aggressive shunning. Then he would toe the line with Savannah, asking her about the Academy about three times a day and if he even got a response it was a straightforward "No." Sometimes, it would turn into physical altercations, that would somehow just fade and they'd blow it off. Actually, she'd storm off to her room and actively ignore him until dinner when Eliot would cook and like moths to a flame, the other three would migrate to the table to feast on the latest masterpiece. Hardison and Parker would skulk off and...do whatever it is they do. Sometimes Eliot and Savannah would tell war stories of some of his most memorable jobs and some of her squeakiest getaways. She'd eventually head to bed. Sometimes, after night terrors woke her up once or twice, she'd come out of her room for a snack like cereal, leftovers, or gummy frogs. That was something that surprisingly didn't cause any issues. Somehow, Hardison had no qualms with Savannah or Parker eating the gummy frogs and drinking the orange soda, but it was the ultimate betrayal if Eliot helped himself to any. After the snack, she'd often end up asleep on the couch with Eliot sleeping in the recliner nearby. It was every other night or so at first , but after about a week, it became a nightly thing. Go to bed, wake up with night terrors, have a snack, fall asleep on the couch. She never seemed to sleep more than a total of four hours, though.

After about two weeks, his phone rang during sparring. He signaled time out, went over to his hoodie and earbud that he'd tossed aside earlier, pulled out his phone and answered it, failing to check the caller ID. The voice delighted him, tone and question caused his heart to sink. "What the hell are you doing endangering my team bringing some off-the-grid loose cannon into the office?!"

Eliot was about to argue when a woman's voice interrupted in the grimaced very obviously and Savannah looked at him with very concerned eyebrows that silently asked him, "What's wrong? Should I run?"

He put a calm hand up to wordlessly tell her. "It's safe, just give me a minute to handle this."He slipped out the door to take the call in the hallway.

"Nate, give me the phone! This is why Parker called me instead of you; you go into brow-beating instead of actually handling it. Give me the phone, Nathan!"

He waited for the ensuing shuffling to finish before he answered, "First of all, you left this team, it's not yours anymore. You are not the boss, so you need to back off. Second of all, she needs our help."

"She doesn't want your help! And you putting Hardison and Parker in danger. The men who sent you after her could find out what you did and come after you."

"Are you saying if they show up I can't protect them? Are you saying I can't do my job?"

There was shuffling. Sophie called from the background. "Eliot, we worried you're letting this girl cloud your emotions! Ow! Nate, you wanker!"

"It's not like that Sophie. This is bigger than her. A lot more people are in danger."

"Hang on!" Nate growled. There was more shuffling and Eliot heard the familiar argumentative tones through what was likely Nate's hand covering the receiver.

Eliot listened. It sounded like Sophie was winning. Nate's tired voice came back over the line. "Okay, how are you going to help if she won't give you any information?"

"Ugh, give me the bloody phone, Nate, this is my territory. Eliot, we'll be there in twenty-four hours."

And then the click. "DAMMIT, PARKER!"


	9. Shut Out

Ch. 9

"Dammit," Eliot repeated at a whisper. He turned back into the gym, disappointed to find Savannah was hidden again beneath her hoodie with her bag safely over her shoulder.

"I should go." She made for the door.

He put his arms out to stop her. "No! Don't."

She sighed angrily. "You think I don't know that whole thing was about me?"

He bit his tongue in thought, trying to word the excuse carefully. "They want to meet you, Nate and Sophie. They know you took cues from us."

She shook her head. "The last thing I need is more people involved. I've been here for weeks! I haven't stayed anywhere more than four hours in years, and now more people who need more covers are headed this way. I need out of here in the worst way. Move."

She tried to shove past him, but he moved closer and took hold of her. "No, no. You're not going anywhere!"

She shoved him, but he kept hold. "Why?"

He put his face inches from hers. "You're safe here. You really want to go back out there? Looking over your shoulder every other second waiting to get caught, to get killed, to fail?"

She went limp. Her voice barely broke a whisper. "I don't want to get anyone else hurt."

He tried to give her a reassuring squeeze. "Darlin', we've been through it all. We can handle it. Just let us help. Let me do my job."

She was silent. She pulled away and turned her back to him. She paced around the gym for a few minutes. He watched her closely. He was waiting for a move. Then he heard it. The sharp breath the split-second before she came running at him. She came with a lot of force, almost knocking him off balance, but he caught her, tight and firm. He didn't want to, but he had to prove a point. "You only get one of those. You try that again, you're not going to like where you end up," the threat hissed through his teeth.

She managed to get a hit in, and he took it. When he decided she was containable, he let her go. "Why are you so obsessed with this?!" she yelled at him.

The words escaped his lips before he's even realized the thought. "The same reason you took all the files instead of just your own." Her look of surrender told him they may finally have an understanding.

But even with their understanding, Savannah shut herself in her room, silently going through her routine. She didn't eat until the dead hours of the night when no one else was around but Eliot, and even then she didn't interact with him, barely acknowledged him. The night terrors were particularly bad that night. Her screams haunted him. He felt guilty, wondering if the things he said affected her psyche further.

There were noises after her screams.

Nate and Sophie came through the door like they'd never left. Nate directed, "You deal with her, I've got Parker." As if nothing had changed, Hardison lead Nate to Parker, and Eliot lead Sophie to Savannah.

"Alright, boys," Sophie said, "scram, bond, go have a boys' night."

"Actually," Hardison corrected, coming back from Parker's arena, "Nate wants me on standby for Parker."

Eliot shrugged. "She could run for it. You may need some muscle to keep her contained."

Sophie frowned, "Eliot, let me do my job. I'll make her comfortable, find out what she wants, she won't want to leave." Eliot began to argue, but Sophie held up a commanding finger. "No. We got a phone call, we're taking care of the problem. Take a day off, go home. I talk with you later, after I'm done with her."

Nate was always the boss in the team, even when he screwed up, and they fought about it, and sometimes he took a time-out. But it was always certain that Nate was there later. There was one thing even more certain than that, however, and that was there was absolutely, positively, no arguing with Sophie...well, there was arguing, but no winning.

Eliot did what she said and went home, or the apartment he sometimes went to on days off and brought lady friends to for...company. He was fuming. Being ordered away like that was emasculating. He was a part of this team, too, and he brought Savannah in. He couldn't find anything to entertain or distract himself. His mind kept drifting to the things Sophie and Savannah had said about clouding emotions and obsession. He knew that he was thinking pretty clearly; it's not like there was any romance between him and Savannah. But why was he pushing so much for this case?

A couple days passed. He itched to just bust through the office and demand to be included, but defying Sophie was more dangerous than arguing with her. Lost in his thoughts once again after who knows how long, he nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell phone rang. "Alright, you can stop sulking, we've made progress."

He leapt up and grabbed his truck keys and headed out the door. "Did she tell you about the Academy?"

"Of course not. This experience traumatized her, it's run her life for the past decade. That's not something you open up about in a day or two. Really, Eliot."

"Fine," he grumbled, hanging up the phone and getting in his truck.


	10. Feeling Safe

Ch. 10

Eliot blew through the door and was surprised at what he saw. There were Parker and Savannah sitting on the couch amicably having a lock-picking contest. Their contented smirks said the score was pretty even. Hardison was very obviously gaming at his personal computer. The headset and emphatic typing gave him away. Sophie and Nate were quietly enjoying leftover macaroni. Eliot by passed them, grabbed a beer and cracked it open. He joined them at the table. "Alright, how'd you manage this?"

Sophie nudged him. "Oh, Eliot. It's been too long. You've forgotten just how good I am."

He lowered his voice, "So...how did you..."

"It's like you've forgotten everything I taught you." She lowered her voice. "The key to a mark is finding out what they want and, in a small way, give it to them."

"What does she want?"

"To feel like a little girl again, to feel safe again, to feel human."

"How did you do that?"

"That's what took so long," Nate answered. He got up and got Hardison's attention. "I think now's a good time."

Sophie brought Savannah to the door of her room; the other four followed. Sophie opened her mouth to make an introduction, but changed her mind and simply opened the door. The empty cell-like room was gone. The gray walls were now a cream and in the center was a queen-sized bed. The bedspread was printed with deep red dahlias the same color as the pillows. Up against the wall to the right of the bed was a dark mahogany vanity and dresser. The dresser was decorated with a dozen or so crystal figurines, most of them flowers. A couple of tables covered in a fabric that matched the bedspread were nestled in the corners of the room and topped with bright lamps. A dark wardrobe that matched the dresser was on the right side of the room.

Savannah had no words as she stepped in and around the room, slowly. She felt the bedspread and fingered the figurines like was an archaeologist feeling bones on a dig. Then, for a long while, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes searched like she was looking for something.

Hardison finally broke the silence. "That's not all." Once he had everyone's attention, he pointed to what looked like a mutated speaker box by the door. "This is your lock. It will be based on your voice print and DNA from the saliva on your breath." Eliot recognized the technology from the Carnival Job with Molly. "There's a lock to get in and a lock to get out. You can set it four multiple people, too. When you're ready, we can set it up."

Sophie took Savannah's hand. "You really are safe here, darling. The wardrobe and the dresser are empty, but when you feel up to it, we can go shopping, put whatever you want in them, doesn't even have to be clothes."

"Thank you."

Eliot felt a little victorious. Sophie was clearly on his side, and that pretty much meant that they were all going to take on this case. Well, at least himself, Hardison, and Parker. It wasn't clear if Sophie and Nate were sticking around. He wondered if that was part of what took so long for Sophie to make progress, talking Hardison, Parker, and maybe even Nate that this was a viable case. It nagged at him that Sophie felt the need to send him away and did all this without him.

"Why don't we let Savannah enjoy her new room in peace, eh?"

"Hey, uh, did you want to go ahead and set up your security lock?" Hardison asked.

"Yeah," Savannah agreed, she seemed genuinely excited to do so, so the other four cleared the room. Parker gathered her lock kits and disappeared while Sophie, Nate, and Eliot returned to the table.

Eliot sipped his beer in silence for a while , but finally the question escaped him. "Why did you send me away?"

Nate and Sophie sighed heavily and she took his hand. "Eliot, we do think you are or were too close to this case or her and you needed some time away to freshen your mind?"

"How am I too close? We've all known her the same amount of time and-"

"You alone decided to go after this case and expected this team to follow without discussion," Nate spoke up.

"You did that all the time! And there was discussion! No one decided they were against it until-"

"Until you brought her here," Nate finished.

"Eliot, you may have all known her about the same amount of time, but there's clearly a connection between you two that she doesn't have with any of the others. It's visible."

"What?"

"When I first walked in and _you _lead me to her, she focused on you until you left, almost looking to you for direction, and just now in her room, everyone else looked on with curiosity, while you kept your eyes on her, full of concern."

He pulled away from her and pointed an irritated finger. "You know, sometimes, I hate what you do. I hate it, you know that."


	11. Not A Child

Ch. 11

The routine they had developed had changed drastically. Mornings were the same, but once breakfast was cleared and the daily trip to the roof, Parker and Savannah would run off like best friends at a sleepover for an hour or so. They would reappear and Nate and Parker would show up and take Parker off somewhere to have some sort of father-daughter sort of thing. Savannah would let Sophie in her room and...who knows what would Sophie was doing. Eliot hoped it was productive. Meanwhile, Hardison would be gaming until Parker got back then they would disappear shortly before Nate and Sophie would, presumably to go be couples.

At this point, Eliot would always want to check in with Savannah, but her never knew how to do it. Sophie's words haunted him. Maybe there was a connection between him and Savannah that no one else had but could the same be for Nate and Sophie's relationship, Parker and Hardison's thing, and even the connection between Nate and Parker. Even Savannah said he was obsessed, but that was said out of anger, wasn't it?

The nights got worse. He would hear Savannah wake up a few times, but she didn't come out like she used to. He could hear frustrated groans, but he didn't dare poke in. After a night or two, he gave in and decided to just use their trips to the roof to check in on her. It didn't appear that her feelings toward him had changed; the connection remained, whatever it was. She had gotten more comfortable, for sure, but she hadn't gotten safe enough to stop her routines.

When they were back in the hub of things, she turned to him and asked "What day is it?"

It took him a minute to process the question that came out of the blue. "Wednesday."

"I have to run an errand." She shifted her weight on her feet.

"Okay, I'll come with you." He turned to head out with her, but she pulled him back.

"No. I'll handle this by myself."

"No, no, no. It's-"

"Eliot, I handled myself for years before you came along. You don't need to escort me everywhere."

"How do we know you're coming back?"

"What? You know I could leave any time I wanted, right?"

"You really-"

"Eliot!" Hardison intervenes. "That's enough. Let her go."

"Where does she need to head off where one of can't go with her?"

"Eliot!" This time it was Sophie. "She's not a child."

"And she's not a prisoner," Nate added.

"Here, take this in case of emergency." Hardison handed Savannah an ear bud., and she disappeared.

Eliot ran his fingers through his hair as his temper flared.

Nate handed him a beer. "Go cool off."

"Nate!" Eliot protested.

"Just go for a walk or work out or something," Parker suggested. It was hard to be mad at her. They weren't bad suggestions for what he's usually do when he was frustrated and couldn't get his way...which was happening way more often lately. "Go," Parker pushed. So he did.

He flew to the Hub when he heard Savannah's voice. When he got downstairs, he saw Savannah handing Parker a pair of gloves like the ones she wore; black fabric with latex pads for grip. Parker was jumping up and down with glee.

"Those are pretty cool," Hardison said. "Where do you get them?"

"Where you get anything worthwhile: underground market."

"You mean the Black Market?" Parker asked.

"It's a little different. Black Market is pretty much just illegal stuff. Underground markets are for people off the grid. It's all done in person at secret locations. The sales are unrecorded and therefore untraceable, protecting both buyers and sellers."

"Hinky. But kind of cool," Hardison shrugged.

"I got everyone a pair. As a small thank you. You never know when you need grip something without leaving DNA...you know, without having to carry around those latex doctor gloves all the time."

"That's very sweet of you, Savannah," Sophie said,accepting her pair.

Savannah gave Eliot his last. He wondered if anyone noticed her fingers linger. He decided to ask as politely as possible, hoping no one would ripped his head off. "Why'd you have to go alone?"

He heard Sophie scoff, but Savannah answered it seemed, with no qualm. "You never walk in to an Underground Market in groups or pairs. It draws attention."

Everyone nodded. The ruling was sound.


	12. Rain and Root Beer Floats

Ch. 12

Evening fell and everyone disappeared into the woodwork. Eliot knew Savannah was still awake in her room. Guilt finally bothered him enough to knock on her door.

"Identify yourself."

"It's Eliot. I treated you like a child earlier today."

"Hang on." He heard shuffling, then an audible sigh, then the door beeped. "It's open."

He opened the door to see her readjusting herself on her bed. "I wanted to apologize for..."

He wasn't sure how to put it, but she nodded. "It's okay. Thank you."

He noticed her eyes were glassy and a little red. "You okay? Did something happen while you were out?"

"No! No. It's just...some days are a little harder than others."

He understood. "Yeah. Alright, I'll, uh, let you get some sleep."

He turned to leave, but heard her, almost whisper, "Eliot?" He turned back to her. "Can you stay?" He wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but she tilted her head, gesturing for him to come in to the room. He wasn't sure what to do. "I sleep better when you're...in the room." Eliot looked nervously around the room for a place he could safely lay, but she patted the bed. "Just sleep in the bed." Before he could argue, she continued, "It's not like there's anything...physical between us." This oddly soothed him. She didn't want anything more than his company, and that was safe. As he turned off the lamps around the room, he heard the familiar beeps and zips of her dealing with her bag. He heard her settle as he laid back on the bed. Her sleeping position intrigued him; knees up like she was about to do sit-ups with her hands sitting gracefully on her ribcage. He pondered how she'd developed into it. It took hours for him to fall asleep, though her breathing indicated she peacefully unconscious in about half an hour.

He woke up to a sharp gasp and the bed underneath him shifting. His eyes snapped open and he saw Savannah sitting straight up, trying to catch her breath. "It's okay," he said softly, fighting the urge to put his hand on her shoulder, knowing it would be a poor idea to touch her in this state.

"Sorry...for waking you," she said, settling.

"It's alright."

She rubbed her forehead. "At least it was only once. That hasn't happened in forever."

He got out of bed and pressed his ear to the door. "No one else is up. Do you mind if I sneak out and catch up on sleep in the recliner? Sophie will flip is she busts me coming out of your room."

"Yeah, I understand. Here, let me unlock it." She exhaled into the DNA lock next to the door. It beeped, and before he slipped out, she promised, "We can set it up to let you in tonight." He nodded and carefully closed the door behind him.

As the day followed, he waited for someone to point out some sort of clue that he and Savannah shared a bed the previous night, but everyone went about their business, even Savannah. She and Parker we involved in another locking-picking contest. A crack of thunder caused the building to shiver. Savannah's head snapped up. "Is it raining?" she asked with what sounded like burning curiosity.

"Well, yeah. It's pouring cats and dogs." Hardison answered with a shrug.

And she took off. "Savannah, what are you doing? Dammit." Hardison tossed Eliot an ear bud and he sped after her. He followed her to the door to the roof. She threw open the door to reveal the grim weather. She seemed to pause in awe. Then in a mad frenzy, she stripped off her bag, her hoodie, her shirt, her pants, her gloves, and even tore the pins out of her hair. She was down to her boots, a pair of black tights, and a black tank top. He was so shocked to watch her strip so much off in the first place and still be clothed that he didn't have time to ask what she was doing. Then she was out the door, a blurry outline in the pouring rain. He held open the door and peered through the torrent. He saw her jog out to the middle of the roof, slowly spin around a few times with her arms out, then her chest heaved in a sigh and she simply sat down.

He ran out to her. "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying the rain!" she said with a maniacal laugh.

"What do you mean?"

"The rain. It washes away DNA. And it distorts the images on cameras."

At first, her words seemed cryptic, and then he understood. The rain was a period of freedom. She wouldn't be pursued or tracked with the water covering her tracks. "Eliot, what's going on?" It was Nate.

"Everything's fine. She just...likes the rain."

"Okay...lemme know if she pulls a Parker again."

"Right."

"Oh, and unless you want to cook, I'd go ahead and order out. And save some for us."

"Fine." He pulled out the ear bud and put it in his pocket. She didn't need anymore surveillance. Not this moment.

He sat down next to her. He took a second to admire her. In the previous weeks, he'd never seen more that her face and hands, and now here she was with her hair and arms free, even bits of her chest, back and calves enjoying the fresh air. Then he noticed something even more than all the newly exposed skin. For the very first time, it was more than a smirk; Savannah was smiling. "This is about more than being tracked, isn't it?"

She shrugged. "I've always liked the rain. One time, back in grade school, Sasha and I were supposed to go to an amusement park but we got rained out. Sasha was disappointed. I went out on the porch to watch the rain, and I didn't feel sad at all. I've never been able to explain it." There was a pause as he just drank in her story. She turned to him. "It feels like a root beer float tastes."

"What?"

"Well, have you ever felt sad while having a root beer float?"

He had to think about what she was saying, but it made sense. "No, I guess not." For a while, they just sat in silence until Eliot had a new curiosity. "Don't you get hot wearing all those clothes?"

"Nope. They're designed by the Underground Market. The fabric is infused with a temperature-regulating gel. Here." She took his hand and pressed it to her abdomen.

She was warm to the touch. "Whoa." But it wasn't the fabric that had him surprised.

"Compare to here." She moved his hand to her bare, chilled shoulder. "Warms in the cold, cools in the heat."

"You're half naked compared to normal. Aren't your arms cold?"

She shook her head and laid back. "Not cold enough to give this up."


	13. Stay

Ch. 13

They stayed in the rain until the dark hours of the morning when the rain finally lightened up. They went inside and enjoyed the leftover pizza. He watched her, eating and laughing like a teenager at a slumber party still soaking wet. This wasn't the girl who jumped in front of his truck a few weeks ago. The rain had washed her away, even if it was temporary. Here was the woman she was supposed to be, with the same peaceful look as the girl in the picture.

Shortly after they ate and Eliot threw the clothes in dryer (after Savannah compulsively hosed them down in peroxide), it was time for bed. She flopped on the bed, hair still wet with a happy sigh, almost a laugh he had never heard before. He laid down next to her and felt her chilled skin against his arm. "You're freezing. Are sure you don't want to risk a blanket for tonight?"

There was a pause as she looked at him. Her stare sent a chill down his own spine; it was like she was staring through him, for some reason, or looking for something. "Okay."

His thoughts became words. "I wasn't expecting you to agree to that."

Her gaze left him for a second, as if in thought. "You're here."

The explanation left him speechless. Two words that spoke an epic meaning. That night, for the first time, Savanah only woke up once in the middle of the night. She rejected the blanket after that, but once she had confirmed Eliot was still beside her, she settled back in.

The next day, Savannah was quiet, even for her. Her appetite was higher than usual. The way she moved, however, whispered that the little girl who played in the rain the night before was still shadowing. She missed the rain. After the hair-burning routine, she sat on the roof, still wet from the storm, for over an hour, tracing her fingers in nearby puddles as the ghost of a peaceful smile played on her lips.

She looked at Eliot. The corners of her eyes crinkled a little. He was in awe at how she could say so much while speaking so little. It wasn't even the way Sophie, not the manipulative body language, but like she looked at him, telling him secrets just meant for him. He sat next to her. Most of the rest of the day she spent a lot of time in her room.

The others looked to him for answers, furtively taking him to the side and asking if something consequential happened the night before. He shrugged, having no definitive answer. The questions came with the predictable subtext: Was something beyond business, beyond friendship, happening between him and Savannah? Again, he had no real answer. It seemed no one knew that he continued to share her bed like a watch dog.

Night fell and she acted like nothing was amiss when he came in. He knew he couldn't press her about her behavior. He answers were like cats; she came when decided, not when called. Her sleep was much less peaceful than the night before. She awoke at least twice. Eliot would just over and pat her arm, reminding her he was still there.

"Eliot." His eyes snapped open at the sound of his name the next morning. Savannah looked at him with an intense curiosity. "Why are you touching me?"

He didn't understand the question until his eyes traveled down her body to see his own arm wrapped her waist. He snatched his arm away as if the contact burned. Guilt choked him. "Um, I'm sorry. Normally, when I'm in bed with a woman, I…It...I don't know why-"

"Okay." She brushed him off and went off to the bathroom.

The way she brushed him off, just accepted his explanation, didn't even hit him, it said something that he hadn't considered before, not out right. Was it _trust_? Did she actually trust him? Well, it was plausible. Why wouldn't she? She spent the most time with him, saw him as a protector...maybe something else?

Then the guilt intruded on his questions. He had touched her, in a way one could consider intimate. It wasn't that he touched her that bothered him so much as it was that he knew she wasn't normally touched at all.

She was barely hitting puberty when she decided to start running; romance was no priority. She told him about her childhood a lot; it never included the mention of crushes, male or female. Romance was so lost on her that she had asked why she was being touched. But she understood his explanation, and he had barely hashed it out. So she knew about romance, sex; she knew other people dealt with it, that he dealt with it. But he had touched this girl, this untouched girl. How could he do that? She wasn't his to touch. She was no one' had gone weeks without incident. What made him touch her?

The guilt ate at him further when Savannah was acting especially jumpy the rest of the day, particularly fidgety. She barely ate. She paced during the hair-burning, almost burning herself. She was in the gym multiple times that day. She spent a lot of time in Parker's jungle gym, too. Parker's jungle gym was a room in which the entire ceiling was laced with repelling rigs. The girls would swing from one to the other, clipping and unclipping carabiners with lightning speed, neither rarely falling.

The rest of the team answered more and more questions about Savannah's increasingly erratic behavior that Eliot. Adding onto it was the guilt, so they could tell he was hiding something, who knew what, but the suspicions screamed inside his own head.


	14. The Academy

Ch. 14

He was especially exhausted by the time Savannah disappeared into her room, even as early as she did. When he could safely follow, he was surprised to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously kicking her feet, instead of laid back in her stiff sleeping position. He closed the door behind him and looked at with the silent mountain of questions, eyes slightly narrowed, lips pursed.

She opened her mouth several times to say something, but nothing came out. There was a long, unmoving silence. Somehow, he figured out she wasn't concerned with the fact that he touched her. This was something else, something that was getting a her for days. He sat down next her and gave her a small smile, trying to tell her he wouldn't push. With a frustrated sigh she flopped backwards on the bed, fancy feet still hanging off the bed. He slowly leaned back to lay next to her, hoping the silence would start to calm her.

He heard a shaky sigh. "The Academy is a cover for engineering super soldiers."

He sat bolt upright for a second, in momentary disbelief of what she said. He leaned back a little, trying to remain calm. He looked at her and saw her eyes were red and glassy and her lips were trembling. She had spoken words she'd hoped never to admit. He wanted her to continue, but of course he couldn't ask her in this state, but soon there was another fragile sigh.

"They search for the academically gifted, you know the kids that get the highest grades without ever cracking open a book. They approach the parents and sell them on this idea that going to the Academy will get them automatic admission into the best universities with full ride scholarships, and who wouldn't say yes to that? Then you start going to school and for the most part it was like a military boarding school. There were your normal school classes but with an accelerated curriculum. Then almost half the classes were focused on war and combat strategies. Then there was gym, but it was different. It focused on combat. Then there was the lab. That was where things got interesting." She sat up, like lying down was hurting her. Her hands were shaking. Part of him wanted to tell her should could stop, but she needed to say the words. "There was this bastardized dentist chair that you got strapped into, then needles and electrodes went everywhere. IVs pumped a cocktail into you: steroids, hallucinogens, and these experimental chemicals that mimicked neurotransmitters. The pseudo-neurotransmitters were designed to put you in incredible pain, so your body would eventually stop registering it."

"That's why when we spar, you never react when I hit you?"

She flinched. "Yeah."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Can you...can you keep going?"

She shook her head, but not in denial, more like she was shaking something loose. "Yeah. So the hallucinogens were derived from the neurotransmitters of Vietnam vets with PTSD. Basically, they intentionally induce war-like hallucinations to desensitize you to those too...Preteens, adolescents, kids...experiencing war inside their own minds." She stopped, rubbing her palms to her forehead vigorously and groaning. She started rocking back and forth.

"You don't have to."

"I'm fine. Of course the steroids were for building the body. That's why they hunted sound minds instead of recruiting jocks. They worked under the premise that you could build a body infinitely easier than sharpening a mind."

"So how did you end up running?" He hated himself as soon as the words escaped him, but she continued, without actually acknowledging him, almost like he wasn't even there.

"We weren't students, we were property. Armies from all over the world were buying us, before our 'training' was even finished. We were just kids being sent into wars we had nothing to do with. They told me my sister was showing similar signs of academic gifts like me, and they wanted to recruit her." She got up and started pacing, still speaking as if Eliot wasn't there. "She was my baby sister; I couldn't let her be fooled into this world of war and endless pain, so I decided to steal the information they had on us, so they couldn't come after her. Then I realized I couldn't be the only one going through this, wanting out, wanting to protect my family. So instead of pulling just our files off their mainframe, I pulled everything. Student files, their research, and quite a bit of money."

She was pacing faster and began talking through gritted teeth. "Savannah?" Eliot was getting worried that the animal from the first night was returning. She stopped and looked at him. She was still there, but barely.

"They knew if they went after my family, I'd release everything to the public, shutting them and all their clients down. But of course, if they got me, game over. They did interrogate my family, but it backfired when my parents found out they'd basically lost me. They gave my parents a settlement, and desperate to have a college fund for Sasha while having no resources to pursue action against the Academy, my family went on with their lives as best they could."

There was a deranged smile on her face. "Savannah?" Eliot pressed again, this time reaching out and taking her arm. Instantly, she was back to normal, or as normal as she could be. Her chin was vibrating and tears finally escaping her glassy eyes. She gripped a fistful of his shirt. She was a teenager again, tormented by chemicals, visions, and the need to protect. "I'm sorry," was the only thing that came out, but she seemed to accept it, and let him hug her. It was tight and long. Her lungs pulled in air spasmodically against his chest. Her heart thumped against his, slowly relaxing.

Silence enveloped them as she slipped out of his hold and sat back down on the bed next to him. He didn't want to, but he knew there wasn't going to be a good time, so it didn't matter much. "Um, can I tell..."

"I expect you to," she answered before he finished, wiping her eyes. "But can it wait...til morning?"

"Yeah, of course." The silence was getting to him. All these weeks of working out with her, escorting her, gaining her trust; it had led up to this, and now that it was over he was kind of lost. Well, now it was time to make a plan to take down this Academy, but that had to wait until tomorrow. But then what happened after that? Would she leave? Where would she go? He fidgeted. "Hey, uh, you want something to eat?"

She put her hand over her face, and he thought he heard her stifle a laugh. "If the accent didn't give you away, Spencer, that right there has 'Southern' written all over it."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you wanna eat or not?"

"Sure." She got up and smoothed herself over.

He unlocked the DNA coder on the door and opened it for her. "Anything in particular?"

She shook her head and brushed her hand across his arm. "Surprise me."


	15. The Bottle

Ch. 15

It took an entire week to construct the plan. It was mainly Parker and Savannah working together while Nate supervised. Sophie thought every aspect of the plan was insane, but she didn't have a big role so her objections were naught. Hardison agreed with Sophie on the crazy aspect, but he'd survived enough crazy with this team to just go with it.

Eliot lurked, just making sure Savannah was holding it together. She certainly wasn't sleeping well. She would wake up about every forty five minute to an hour and after the third or fourth time, she'd give up and get out of bed.

The plan was laid out. It would take one day, probably just a few hours. Savannah's psyche couldn't take much longer, especially since the plan started with Eliot bringing her to The Academy to seemingly turn her in.

It was about two nights before the con, and Eliot awoke to the sound of glass breaking. He busted out of the room to find Savannah rifling through his liquor cabinet with a couple empty bottles already rolling pathetically across the dining table. "What the hell?" He went to grab the liquor bottle out of her hand, but she just picked up another and took a swig.

"Do you mind?"

"Savannah, you don't drink."

She shuffled over to the table and flopped into a chair, firmly gripping the bottle as she took another swig. "Actually, I do, just not very often and I have to know I'm safe for a while."

He tried to take the bottle away from her but she snatched it back. "You're going to make yourself sick."

She slammed the bottle down on the table without breaking it and leaned her head against it. "In thirty-six hours, I'm supposed to face the people I've been running from for almost half my life. And say things go the way they're supposed to, we make it out alive, and my little personal hell is over. Then what? What do I do with my life? I don't know a world outside of nomadic hiding."

"A real life," Eliot answered. He took her hand to emphasize his point,but found himself fantasizing, wanting the world they were giving her. "A life where you can stay anywhere you want as long as you want without constantly looking over your shoulder." He sighed and then discovered she wasn't listening as she took several gulps of Jack Daniels in one breath.

"You know what? Fuck you, Eliot Spencer. Fuck you." Eliot was taken aback, but before he could protest, she continued. "I was fine before you came along. I had everything worked out. It wasn't perfect, but I had a routine and I was fine with it. Then you ruined it."

"Um, it was you who jumped in front of my truck, last I checked."

She glared at him and shook her head like he was missing the point. "You would have found me."

He shook his head, not sure what exactly he just heard. "What?"

"You would've found me."

"Excuse me?"

"You're the best. You know, most of the guys they sent never even thought to check my parents' place. I knew you would find me. But I knew you weren't on their side. I just wanted to save you some time and effort by telling you I didn't want your help. Didn't exactly go the way I planned. Obviously."

"I'm still lost on how this is my fault."

"You came looking. You had the option of letting me be. But you didn't."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not. "

"Come on, let's go spar."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh, come on." She proved his point when she tried to get up and went straight to the floor.

"Like I said."

"I see your point." He offered a hand to help her up , and she accepted.

"You should probably get back to bed, sleep this off."

"Right, that's why I started drinking."

Eliot shook his head. "You're ridiculous."

"Don't act like you've never done it."


	16. Plan F

Ch. 16

"Everybody ready?" Parker asked.

"Yeah," Hardison answered. He didn't sound convinced.

Eliot looked at Savannah sitting in the passenger side of his truck. She took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

He confirmed, "We are go."

"Alright, we're wired. On screen," Hardison informed them.

The tablet in Savannah's hands lit up. Parker and Hardison were posing as maintenance crew. The cameras in the eye glasses gave Savannah and Eliot eyes on the property as they sat in his truck a block away. "I have visual. Now we have to play these first few minutes by ear." Eliot watched as Savannah examined the screen. After several strained minutes, he noticed her eyes change. It reminded him of when she freaked out that first night.

"What's up?"

Savannah pressed her finger to the com in her ear. "We're going Plan F."

Eliot and Hardison let out simultaneous and incredulous "What?!"s.

"Are you sure?" Parker pushed, cool as a cucumber.

"Yeah," Savannah answered, pain in her voice.

"Savannah, are you absolutely sure?" Hardison asked, his voice flavored with panic.

"Savannah, do-" Eliot started, but Savannah cut him off, her entire being radiated the fire in her eyes.

"Eliot, this is my...ugh, just...I need you to trust me, okay?"

The question brought forth a series mental images. His arm around her waist, the earnest look in her eyes when she wanted to leave to protect the four of them, her wet hair curling around the top of the blanket she used only once. His heavy sigh was her answer. "Okay then. Parker, how much time are you going to need?"

"Twenty minutes, tops."

"Perfect."

"Alright, I guess it's time for the cuffs." Eliot reached into the glove box and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a long pair of ankle cuffs. Savannah groaned, but cooperated as he cuffed her hands behind her back and then her ankles.

"Oh, don't forget the envelope," she reminded him.

"Right." He pulled a thick white envelop out of the glove box. and tucked it in his jacket.

"And the bag."

"Right." He pulled Savannah's now flaccid bag from the floorboard. She had emptied the bag of everything, save for several thumb drives that held the Academy's files and several dozen marble detonators, that morning. He saw her eyeing it nervously as he pulled it over his shoulder. He nudged her gently. "Hey, I'm trusting you, you're trusting me." She nodded. "Now stop pulling on the cuffs, you'll break them."

"Well, it's habit...And they're uncomfortable!"

"They're made to restrain criminals, of course they're uncomfortable!" He noticed the sweat beading on her forehead. He knew he couldn't quell her nervousness entirely, but he thought she could benefit if he tried to lighten the mood. With a mischievous smile, he nudged her again. "You know, when we get there, I'm gonna have to rough you up a bit. That could be fun." Immediately, he was unsure of his words. He came across more sexual than he'd intended.

But she smirked. "I'll have to resist a little bit, put up a fight."

He was taken aback. He'd constantly try to brush off those times when her touch or her look lingered, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the connection, her responsiveness. He cocked an eyebrow. She pursed her lips. "Here, buckle up, we gotta go." She slumped back in her seat as he pulled the seat belt over her. Electricity charged between them as his knuckles brushed her shoulders and she stared into his eyes.

The air went back to business as the truck engine started and they pulled down the block to the Academy. Eliot parked on the curb just off the campus. He got out, went to the passenger's side, and pulled Savannah out with an appropriate amount of roughness. She aimed a kick at him, but the cuffs did their job. He firmly gripped her bicep and pulled her to the front door, where the simple drop of his name got them past the armed guard.


	17. Clear

Ch.17

Whispers followed them through the hall as they wove through the students. It was hard for him to look at any of the students in the eye. They all looked at Savannah like a hero, a fallen hero, and despite reality, he was seen as the cold bounty hunter who dragged her back to their prison for sentencing.

Eliot watched Savannah carefully out of the corner of his eye. She seemed oddly stoic. He heard his whisper, "Her." He followed her line of sight and saw the petite strawberry blonde walking in the opposite direction. He navigated so that they'd almost brush past her, then he slipped the envelope in her hands. The girl just barely paused and looked at Savannah, and they exchanged imperceptible nods.

It seemed like the walked for miles before the office was in sight. Eliot was especially anxious as he wasn't sure if Savannah could keep her cool. However, she seemed stoic, save for the sweat that started soaking through her sleeve when the office door came into view. He wanted to ask her if she could go through it, but he knew she couldn't turn back now. The door opened, and the air went ice cold as it closed behind them.

About a dozen men in white suits waited on the other side, staring at Savannah like she was a long-awaited dessert. Most of them he recognized from the initial meeting when they asked him to find her. "Mr. Spencer," the man at the large desk in the center of the room addressed Eliot as he stood up. Eliot recognized as the Charles the founder and dean from the school's website. "I was almost certain the guard was mistaken when he called in to tell me you were on your way up." He walked slowly around the desk and towards Savannah. He felt her tense in his hand. "When we didn't hear from you, we assumed you weren't interested in the job. I admit, it took you longer that we would have estimated, but of course, you are the only one to succeed. Congratulations. Did you retrieve the files as well?" The entire time he spoke, his eyes were locked on her.

Eliot nodded. "In the bag," he answered calmly through his teeth.

"Well done. Was she particularly difficult?"

Eliot fought the urge to smile as he answered, "She was definitely a handful."

"Of course she was." He placed a hand on Savannah's shoulder, and her breath hitched. "You thought you could stop us by stealing a few thumb drives? As you can see, we've prevailed. We still had all our equipment, you silly girl, we just got to continue as best we could on your friends and record the data on new faces. You didn't save anyone."

"I saved _her_."

"If she was anything like you, I think you did us a favor."

"You know, I'm proud of you for getting all those new lab rats. I'm sure it was difficult once word got out that you lost a student, actually lost one. Your fresh faces don't include a lot of siblings, do they? Must've cost you a lot of money to keep the ones you had in your claws. I mean, you could keep my family quiet, but teenagers are a lot harder to control. You could scare them into keeping quiet about the experiments on the few occasions they saw their parents, but they had to say something. A missing student made much better small talk." Savannah grunted as Charles increased his grip on her shoulder.

"What do you plan on doing with her?" Eliot interrupted to cut tension. He felt Savannah's weight shift, and it occurred to him that question didn't need to be asked. She wasn't going to hold it together much longer.

"Clear," Parker's voice rang through the com like a gift.

"Tracy?" Savannah asked in response. The air changed. The suits were confused.

"Clear," a female voice whispered. It was the girl Savannah had designated the envelope to in the hall. It all happened in an instant. He took a defensive stance ready to cover her as she snapped both sets of cuffs and snatched the bag off his shoulder. How could they have felt so safe with her in mere regulation cuffs? They had to know they built her to snap them. Charles went to attack her, but Eliot clocked him in the jaw. Charles was out cold. The sweet beep sounded. Other suits rushed towards them. The zipper slid open. A swing of Eliot's fist knocked back three suits. Savannah threw a fitful of marbles. The marbles clinked on the picture window. The detonated. The outside of the office was blown away.

There was a moment of silent eye contact between Eliot and Savannah before running and leaping over the remaining mounds of suits and casting the precious bag aside. It was only a second-story window...or what used to be a second story window, so the pair free fell for a brief few seconds before a rather graceful landing and taking off running once more. They sped around the building, off the campus and to the curb where Eliot's truck was parked. Not even buckled and doors barely closed, Eliot screeched around the nearest corner until the deafening sounds and shaking vibrations coming from the exploding compound triggered him to hit the brakes and they looked back to watch the blocks of horror disintegrate into dust and rubble.

"Everybody clear?" Eliot reiterated.

"Yes," Parker confirmed.

"Yeah, we're alright; me, Parker, and Lucille 3." Hardison sounded out of breath.

"Tracy?" Savannah's voice was high with concern.

"Safe and sound, we're secure."

Savannah exhaled. "Great. We'll work on getting you guys home without too much media attention. Non-uniforms too?"

"We're fine. There's an opening to the sewer system. We'll do a scatter exit and do the frantic 'bomb threat' explanation."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"We are. Thanks, Savannah."

"I knew I could count on you."

Hardison chimed in, "And everyone knows they'll be sent to actual private schools and universities by next week?"

"Yeah, we're all really excited. Is this Alec Hardison?" Tracy asked.

You could hear the smile in his voice, "You know it."

"Hate to break up the after-party, but I hear sirens. We should clear out," Parker warned.

Eliot hit the gas. "In a few hours, they'll have the police report on the news."

"Then it'll really be over," Savannah sighed painfully.

Nate had often had the same mentality. The job wasn't over until the news told them whether or not they were suspects and if the mark was truly facing consequences. In this case, the mark was dead now, but they needed to make sure they had done enough to cover themselves and make sure Charles's buyers would keep off Savannah's trail.


	18. Over

Ch. 18

"Today, tragically, Charles Academy for the Gifted was apparently bombed this morning. The school is in ruins. Students were found walking around nearby neighborhoods, and when questioned, informed us that the staff heard of a bomb threat and sent them down to the basements for safety. Several staff members were in the basement with the students, but unfortunately most of the staff, including the founder, Charles Grant, were killed in the explosion." Eliot turned off the radio for a moment.

"Who were the staff Tracy got out?" he asked, concerned.

Savannah glared at the radio. "We called them non-uniforms. The staff that was there to help, just doing their jobs, not directly involved with destroying the psyche of adolescents and young adults. Janitors, first aid nurses, academic professors, the innocents. Now turn the radio back on, we haven't heard the important part yet."

"-appears that what was recovered from the remains of the bombs were trademarks of several different terrorist groups from across the globe. It looks as though some terrorist groups are trying to frame each other for the bombing and are trying to destroy America from the roots: our children. This has lead to discussions of fortifying basements all in schools all across the country."

Eliot clicked the radio back off. "We're clear. It's over."

Hardison and Parker were heard celebrating over the coms. Eliot looked at Savannah with a smile, but to his dismay, she didn't seem to share his joy. She clutched the sides of her head and panted heavily like it was painfully difficult to breathe.

He pulled the truck over. They's been driving since the explosion. Thankfully, they were on a wider, emptier road outside of the busier city. "Savannah?" Eliot had the rare hint of fear in his voice.

The coms went void of jubilance. "Hey, is everything alright?" Hardison asked.

Eliot tried to get a closer look at Savannah, searching for signs of injury, poisoning, something forgotten. When the gasps were replaced by gut-wrenching sobs, he understood and was relieved. Nine years of running, burning, peroxide, night terrors, and now it was over. It was being able to breathe again.

"Everything's fine," Eliot mumbled into the com. "You guys head back to the office. We'll be awhile."

"Alright, cool," Hardison sighed.

Eliot pulled the com out of his ear and carefully plucked Savannah's com out of hers. He carefully put his arms around her and after she didn't escalate, he pulled her close and tight. "It's okay. It's over." Her body spasmed against him, but as he squeezed her, her breathing calmed a little. Her clothes were damp with anxious sweat.

It was almost an hour before Savannah settled enough to pull away.

"You alright?" Eliot pressed.

She pushed her hair behind her ear. "If I tell you where to go, will you drive?"

"Uh...yeah." Twenty minutes later they were on a rudimentarily paved, unmarked road, grass with clusters of trees painted the landscape.

"Pull up here." She directed him off the road to a particularly large group of trees. When she unbuckled her seatbelt, he cut the engine. With no words, she got out and he followed her into the thicket. She was several feet ahead of him at a large clearing, when he saw her start taking off her outer clothes. He picked up speed to catch up learned why. There was a small spring creating a pool about twenty feet across and probably an average of eight feet deep. She was barefoot and down to her tights and tank top. She took a running start and dove in with a celebratory squeal.

He shrugged, stripped off his shirt, kicked off his boots and jumped in after her. She came up giggling, just like the night in the rain. Eliot started to worry that Savannah may revert to the girl she missed out on being. His concerns were interrupted and possibly confirmed when she splashed him with the spring's freezing water.

"Wha-" he sputtered. She laughed maniacally and started swimming away. He tried to grab her ankle, but she rotated and slipped out of his grip. This turned into about an hour and a half of water wrestling. She was especially slippery in water, so it was amusingly more difficult. When the match finally concluded, Eliot having conceded, he found a decent sized rock to rest on while she swam around for the following three hours.

How was it possible that she could keep going for so long like some sort of energizer bunny? She was nice to watch, though, as she chased fish and used the nearby rocks and trees as diving platforms. More than once, he caught her watching, staring at him. He pretended not to notice.

He climbed out of the spring behind her, then paused in thought. "I didn't think this through."

"What's up?" she asked, digging through her clothes.

"Wet clothes aren't exactly good for the truck seats," he grunted with a splash of embarrassment.

She smirked and tossed him her hoodie. "Here, sit on this; I'll change into the dry clothes and put the wet ones in the back." He turned back to thank her to find she was just staring at the hoodie in his hands with a curious fondness. "I don't need them anymore."

He glanced at her on the ride home. She had dozed off shortly into the ride. The setting sun cast shadows over her face, enhancing the premature stress lines on her face. Water appeared to be her life source. She seemed so much younger around it. She was still young, but she was Parker young; a unique coat on innocence naivete awash a life with darkness no one should have to feel.

Unfortunately, she woke with a shrill gasp. Eliot habitually reached for her as she caught her breath. She groaned with exhaustion. The night terrors. They were going to get worse for a while since now it wasn't the suits that would haunt her...it was their ghosts, and ghosts didn't die.


	19. Civilian Clothes

Ch. 19

"Congratulations."

"Hey Soph, what are you guys doing back in Portland so soon?" Eliot asked, not looking up from the pan as he twirled the spatula idly over the cooking huevos rancheros.

Sophie leaned over the counter while Nate fiddled with the chess board Hardison always had set up for him. "Truth be told, we never left, just got a hotel. We get nervous when we _know_ you're on a job, particularly on a job as dangerous as that one. We saw the news, seems it went well...What triggered Plan F?" Sophie didn't have that cheerful maternal tone when she asked. It was that suspicious, upset tone.

He knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear, but of course, there was absolutely no lying to Sophie. "I'm not entirely sure. She saw something on the cameras and called Plan F. With the amount of suits that were in the office, I think she made the right call."

"Is she still here?"

"Yeah," he sighed. But for how long?

"Eliot," Sophie started, and as if on cue, Savannah came out of her room, Hardison came downstairs, and Parker (to everyone's frustration) came repelling out of the ceiling.

"Huevos rancheros," Hardison nodded with satisfaction as he sat down to start a game of chess with Nate.

"Oh darling, you're still with the black fugitive clothes?"

Savannah tugged at her shirt. "They're the only clothes I have right now."

"Oh," Sophie moaned sympathetically and took her hand. "Why don't we take you out shopping for some real-" Sophie caught Eliot glaring disapprovingly at her, "Um, civilian clothes." Eliot gave a small nod and turned back to the eggs in the pan, still glancing over to make sure Sophie kept her fashionista reeled in.

"I guess I do kind of miss civilian clothes."

"And you know, there's a gala celebrating the 50th anniversary of one of the theatres downtown. We could go there to celebrate. It's be something glamorous and formal; you'd be like a princess. And-"

"Sophie," Nate said warningly.

Savannah shrugged and tugged at her sleeves. "That does sound fun." She sounded genuine. "Um," she looked at Parker, "do you think you could join us?"

Parker could balance Sophie out. While Sophie would lean more towards the ultra-feminine clothes to grab attention, Parker would want the more casual athletic wear that you could easily move in. While Savannah wasn't entirely a tomboy, not by choice, she wasn't a complete girly-girl either. She needed both sides of the coin to get a satisfactory wardrobe.

"Yeah, sure," Parker answered.

Sophie excitedly made for the door as the younger girls followed.

"Nah-ah-ah," Eliot negated and pointed the spatula towards the dining table. "After breakfast." The other five shuffled to the table smirking and stifling laughter. You didn't snub Eliot's meals, especially not for shopping.

Eliot adjusted his bowtie as he stepped down the stairs into the empty hub and made his way towards Savannah's room. The door was open, so Sophie must've at least had her dressed by then.

"Almost done, just keep your lips still a few more seconds." Eliot cautiously leaned his head in the door. "Alright, all done." Sophie pulled a brushed away from Savannah's lips as they sat with their backs to the door facing the vanity. "Perfect. Now I have to go check on Parker and the boys." Sophie glanced up and noticed Eliot. "Oh good, there's one now." She got up and went over to Eliot, untying and retying his bowtie. "You didn't tie this in the mirror, did you? You need to be careful." The way she was looking at him, he knew that she wasn't telling him to be careful with the tie. She patted him firmly on the shoulder and disappeared up the stairs.

"You look good," Savannah's voice called him to look up. She was looking right at him through the mirror.

"You do, too."

She turned to the mirror and touched her reflection. "Do I?" She looked genuinely unconvinced. "It doesn't look like me." She definitely looked different. An elegant tiered silver column dress trimmed in black lace replaced her hoodie and hung on to her with one lace strap. Her usual securely pinned curls fell over her shoulders from an artistic up-do. Her face was out of the shadows decorated with cranberry lipstick, deep red cheeks, and silver eyeshadow to match her dress. "I don't...I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore, who I'm supposed to be."

"Yourself," he shrugged. She had started tearing up. He pulled out the handkerchief Sophie and Nate had always pressed him to carry in any and all tux and suit jackets and dabbed her eyes with it. "No no no. You can't cry, the mascara will run and Sophie will tear me a new one."

"Sorry, I just don't know who that is. I've been hiding for so long."

With a sigh, Eliot sat down, and at his gesture, she sat next to him. "Then I'll tell you a few things. You love anything to do with water. Your favorite color is blue, like the water in paintings of ocean sunsets. You won't eat grape popsicles. You love breakfast food at any hour. You run your tongue along your bottom lip when you're mad. You loved nail polish as a kid. You don't like cutting your hair. Your arms are stronger than your legs. And you somehow got Sophie to let you wear your combat boots with this dress. How did you get away with that?" He snorted as he looked at her feet.

She tapped her toes together, giggling. "Sophie kept bringing me heels, and I couldn't walk in a single pair. It was getting late, so she let me keep my boots." She started laughing uncontrollably for several minutes. It was contagious. When she finally caught her breath, she said, "Thank you. I can't believe you remember all that." He shrugged. "You press your lips together when you're mad. And when you're more sad, your jaw hangs a little more. You sleep with your arms crossed, and a lot of your clothes have a wolf motif." There it was again, that thing she did where she said things that always meant more than the words themselves.


	20. Family

Ch. 20

Several hours later, they were back on the bed, laid back with their legs hanging off the edge, slightly disheveled from the evening's festivities. There was a tension in the air that tortured them the moment the party ended.

Her voice softly permeated the air. "So I'm going to have to handle a few things."

"Yeah." His tone was restrained.

"And I have to leave...to do those things."

"Right." He paused and heard her sigh. "You know it doesn't have to be-"

"Permanent? I know."

"I talked to Parker and Hardison. They agreed you'd be an asset. Especially after you blended so well tonight."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good."

Sophie pressed a cold beer into his hands. "What?!" Eliot snapped at her.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "I thought it might help you calm down. She's been gone a couple hours and you've been brooding so hard, you almost caught the kitchen on fire." He just growled in response. "I know you two had a connection. I almost want to tell you to go get her just so you'll snap out of it. But you don't know where she is. I'm sorry, Eliot. People aren't always supposed to stay in our lives for-What is that look?"

"I know where she is."

Eliot pulled through the suburban neighborhood. The street was eerie, quiet, and familiar. He saw movement in his peripherals and went to slam on the brakes. Geez, not again. No, really, not again. It was a squirrel. He continued rolling slowly.

A form in black jeans and a teal-blue tank top cleared a fence with a duffel bag and swept her curls over her shoulder. He eased the truck to a stop. She made eye contact through the windshield and a satisfied smile curled her lips. She got into the truck. He pulled out of the neighborhood.

"You jumped the fence. You didn't go back to them?"

"There was no real reason. They recovered years ago. I went there to answer some questions of my own. Sasha did become a veterinarian. And got a dog."

"You got what you wanted."

"She's happy. And safe. And you're here. So yeah, I got what I wanted."

"New duffel bag?"

"Yeah, I dropped by the UM before here. Had a feeling I'd need one again. New job with Leverage International."

"You look good in blue."

"Thanks."

"You sure you won't miss your family?"

"Why would I miss them? I'll see them in a few minutes."


End file.
